


Just One Date

by ChoklettHartz



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Angst, Drama, Feelings, Fluff, Incest, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:28:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26588896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChoklettHartz/pseuds/ChoklettHartz
Summary: Dante had invited him to meet up. Though he didn’t say the reason, Nero could guess what it was. He should have made up some excuse and not come at all, but that would only postpone the inevitable.
Relationships: Dante/Nero (Devil May Cry)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 41
Collections: Daneroweek 2020





	Just One Date

**Author's Note:**

> For Danero week 2020! The prompt is "New Beginnings". Takes place post DMC5.

With a scowl set in place, hood up, fists in his pockets, Nero walked off the main street onto an unlit path that wound up towards a plateau overlooking the city. Dante had invited him to meet up. Though he didn’t say the reason, Nero could guess what it was. He should have made up some excuse and not come at all, but that would only postpone the inevitable. 

Faint light was spilling onto the path from the plateau, soft and faint until he drew closer. He stopped when he reached it. He had been there a few times. There was an old public grill and a picnic table. Just a small clearing that was rarely used. Now string lights hung from the trees all around the area, casting a dim glow. On the table was a thermal bag, a pair of lit red candles, and a single red rose in a plastic vase. Dante was leaning against the edge of the table and grinned when he saw Nero.

“Hey, kid! About time! Food’s gonna get cold.”

Nero ground his hands in his pockets and shifted his weight between his feet, watching while Dante unzipped the bag and took out two large tupperware containers of what looked like spaghetti. Nero’s earlier irritation melted somewhat, taken aback by the obvious effort Dante had put into what was clearly supposed to be a date. Considering how Nero had seen firsthand how bad Dante was at taking care of basic life necessities, this was pretty damn impressive. And of course Dante was looking at him like a damn hopeful puppy, a look that had gotten to Nero way too many times before. A look he found himself missing later-- too late. He resisted the old habit of brushing his nose in embarrassment, glancing around the softly lit clearing. He really shouldn’t have come here.

Dante laid out some plasticware, the kind that looked vaguely metallic, and uncovered the pasta with a flourish. From what Nero could see, the sauce was mild and garnished, made just the way he liked. It was… nice, and it only made Nero look away with frustration. Dante did _not_ need to go through all this trouble for him when he could barely take care of himself.

“Hope you don’t mind my cooking,” Dante said with a grin as he scratched the back of his head. “It’s been a while--”

“What did you want to talk about?” Nero asked curtly. He didn’t want to stay longer than necessary, unwilling to let old feelings and memories resurface. Because if he did, he was afraid he really wouldn’t want to leave again. Dante’s smile waned, still there as always, with a hint of sadness. Regret was plain in his eyes, and Nero glared at him. Was he another regret, too?

“Aw, come on. Sure you don’t want to eat first?” Dante pouted dramatically, leaning his hands on the table. Nero could practically see a wagging tail.

Rolling his eyes, Nero tossed his hood back and walked up closer to the table. Condensation stuck to the tupperware, spaghetti still steaming and fresh. It smelled delicious and Nero hadn’t eaten dinner yet. Funny how Nero was the one that had often used food as a tactic to coax Dante out of his moods.

“Dante…”

“I hope I made the sauce okay. Honestly, it’s mostly the pre-prepared kinda stuff plus some rosemary, which I think you liked?”

“Dante--”

“I know it’s not much, but I figured I should try cooking for once-”

“Dante!”

“I miss you.”

“Can you just-- What?”

Dante pursed his lips, looking off to the side like the words had slipped unbidden. Nero blinked a few times before gathering himself up to scowl at him. “Just realizing that now or was that something else you couldn’t tell me?”

Dante winced and muttered quietly, “I’m sorry, Nero.”

Nero crossed his arms and scoffed. “Sorry about which part? Starting up a relationship with me and then pushing me away when it was too much? Trying to keep me out of your stupid sibling feud that almost ended the world? Or, gee, never once in the past five years thinking that it might have been a good idea to tell me that you’re my _fucking uncle?"_

Dante seemed to curl in on himself more with each accusation. “I did think about telling you,” he mumbled. 

“Yeah? When?”

Dante sighed and slouched on the bench. “I fucked up, I know. There’s nothing I can really say to make it better. I’m sorry. And… I never stopped caring about you.” 

He rubbed his neck awkwardly. Always laid back and acting like nothing was wrong, but Nero learned his cues and knew exactly when he felt like bolting. And maybe it was his demonic senses being super heightened now, but he could feel the agitation from Dante’s demon side. Dante looked up at him, ice blue eyes soft. The deep set sadness hadn’t fully disappeared, but ever since he had come back from Hell with Vergil, he seemed to be doing better. So, what was Nero doing here then? Dante certainly didn’t seem to need him--

“I still love you,” he said quickly, like the words were struggling free from him.

Nero clenched his fists, still keeping up his glare even as his pulse quicken, heart twisting with a feeling of longing that he thought he buried already. He knew what was coming, knew why Dante invited him out here tonight, and he still couldn’t help it. Just like how he couldn’t help seeking Dante out five years ago after the incident in Fortuna. No matter how he had grown over the years and figured things out, he still missed the days of being with Dante. It was one of the first times he ever felt stable. Definitely the first time his demon wasn’t constantly bitching at him. It was a sense of belonging that he still missed even now. And did he love Dante? He had said it once before… 

Unable to keep looking at those blues eyes so full of tenderness, he glanced at the pasta. The steam was now just a thin tendril trailing up into nothing. The rose in the vase was unnaturally vibrant, one of those magic ones. Did he still love Dante after all the shit that happened? Even after he learned the truth, even after all the excuses he tried to make up, nothing truly changed. He still missed those days.

“Fine. So what did you want?”

Dante laughed mirthlessly, almost to himself. “A lot. More than I should ask for, if I’m being honest. But really I just… wanted you to know how I feel. Wanted to apologize properly. You deserve that at least.”

Nero scratched the back of his head, anger quickly melting, slipping through his fingers. Another old habit: clinging to anger in favor of facing complicated situations. He sighed. What a damn mess his newly discovered family was.

“Alright. I accept the peace offering. Only because I haven’t eaten yet,” he grumbled as he sat down on the bench across from him. He could practically see the sparkles in Dante’s eyes. “Doesn’t mean you’re off the hook,” he growled. Ignoring the grinning idiot before him, he stared resolutely at the spaghetti as he dug a fork in and took a bite. It was… surprisingly good. Nothing fancy, but it was decent. He should have gotten Dante to cook more often. Glancing up, he met an eager expression. There was the puppy look again.

“Is it okay?” Dante asked.

Nero brushed his nose before he could stop himself. “It’s fine,” he mumbled. 

Dante took a bite as well. “Oh, it’s cold.”

“Eh, kinda my fault.”

“Good thing I brought a backup plan.”

“What-- Is that cerberus….” Nero gave him a deadpan look, unimpressed as Dante summoned flames across the devil arm and waved it over the pasta. “I think you burned it…”

“Did I? Shit…”

Nero snorted and picked off the burnt bits on the top. “It’s fine.”

They ate their meal with easy conversation, a lot like old times. There was a lot more left unsaid. Dante was good at avoiding these things, Nero had come to learn that fact very well. For now, it was okay. There was a lot to untangle and they’d get through it step by step.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
